Sparks in the Ashes
by Above the Winter Moonlight
Summary: Harry Potter, stuck a century in the past gets reluctantly drawn into a deadly war. As powerful bonds of family and friendship are formed, Harry and his friends and allies, old and new, uncover truths that will either bring about the world's salvation, or damnation.


**Well, since I've posted this story on my Archive Of Our Own site, I may as well post it here. I'm four chapters behind but oh well. Here's the first chapter. This story will follow the manga but it will take elements from the anime and it will have many AU elements, especially when we get to the Asia Branch Headquarters, but that is all I will say about that. This story does also include my own headcanons, backstories for certain major characters are altered, and it will explore an AU version of the Fourteenth's history. That is all that I have to say at the moment. I may remember some other things later but, for now, this is all that I can think of.**

**I hope that you enjoy this chapter and reviews, as always, are much appreciated.**

**. . .**

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. And I don't own -man. I am only saying this once so I will not repeat it in later chapters._

**. . .**

**Arc 1**

**The Black Order**

**. . .**

**1**

**A Century in the Past**

Allen Walker studied the three burly men seated in front of him, keeping his expression neutral while a sweet, innocent smile played on his lips. In his hands, one pale and unadorned and the other covered in a long, white glove, were five cards. The burly men were grinning at him with smugness radiating off their entire being; piles of guineas rested on the table next to them. All that money, along with all of the clothes on the men's back, would be his if he won the hand. That was the bet. That was what the burly men agreed upon.

That was the bet that Allen was going to win no matter what.

"Two cards," he said, removing two cards from his hand and placing them on the ground before reaching over to the deck, casually and subtly slipping two cards from his sleeve into his hand before adding them to his hand. To anyone who was watching, or the players that sat across from him, he had just drawn cards like a regular player.

"I fold," one of the burly men said, throwing his cards down with a huff.

"Bad hand, Vince," the second man said in amusement. "This kid ain't got nothing. I'm gonna stand."

"I'll stand too," the third man said firmly and held up the hands. "Call. Four of a kind." He laid the hand out with a broad grin on his face.

"Ha, beat ya," the second man said with a laugh as he laid his hand down to reveal a Straight Flush. "Looks like I win, kid. Now you're gonna pay your Master's debts to us now."

"But I haven't shown my hand yet," the fourteen-year-old boy with the unruly white hair hidden by a hat said innocently even as he smirked inwardly as he fixed silver-gray eyes on his hand.

"Fine, fine, what do ya got kid?" the second man said with a huff, clearly not thinking that Allen had anything that would work.

Allen smiled a sweetly innocent smile as he laid his hand down. "Royal Straight Flush," he said.

There was a moment of silence as the three burly men stared at the cards that lay on the table as if they couldn't believe their eyes. "W...What?" they exclaimed at the exact same time, shock causing their bodies to freeze and their eyes to go wide.

"It looks like I win," Allen commented casually.

"Y...You...but that...how?" Vince stammered out.

Allen shrugged as he gathered the cards together and began shuffling them. "I won the hand. Are you going to pay or should we go another hand?" he asked as he shuffled.

Five minutes later, Allen was leaving the lobby of the inn with his winnings in his hands, having decided to be nice and let the debt collectors keep their clothes. He counted the guineas as he walked, pressing his lips together. "Well, at least I got a couple of Master's debts taken care of and I did win a bit more than I thought I did," he mused as he stuffed the money away while walking, his hands tucking into the pocket of his jacket.

He wondered if he would be able to stash away some of the money he'd won before his Master noticed. He was sure that his Master would just spend it all on alcohol or a nearby brothel, as he usually did, and Allen would like to have a little of his own spending money. He sighed as he tilted his head to gaze up at the sky.

A few years had gone by since Allen had started training with his Innocence and his Master, General Cross Marian, and there really hadn't been much training involved. Most of the time, Allen was busy handling all of his Master's debts or running from debt collectors or getting thrown into the middle of a street where akumas were roaming the area. That last thing didn't really look like normal training but his Master felt that he would learn better if he was forced to do so in order to save his life, hence the throwing Allen at the akuma and hoping he didn't get himself killed plan.

Even so, there was no denying that when Cross Marian decided to fight against the akuma himself, which only happened a handful of times since Allen had met the man, he was a powerful fighter. It just so happened that he preferred spending most of his time, instead, with women or drinking or racking up debts and then leaving Allen to deal with paying those debts back.

At least Allen had learned some things, not only about how to fight akuma and about the curse around his left eye that allowed him to see the imprisoned soul of the akuma, but also on just how bad the war was, just how much of an advantage the Millennium Earl had. There was just too much loss and too many who desired to bring their loved ones whom they had lost to death back, even if only to see them one more time.

Allen shivered as he recalled when he had been like that, when he was ten-years-old, and that had been what led to him getting cursed. As the memory came back into his mind, Allen was more than a little grateful by the sudden explosion of white light that emerged from a nearby alley since it immediately jolted him out of that memory before he could go into it.

He turned and darted toward and into the alley, scanning the area but his eye wasn't activating so he figured that there wasn't an akuma around. He edged his way forward anyway just in case they were hiding; he normally didn't see the soul of the akuma unless he could see the human form that the akuma had taken.

He spotted the boy, thankfully before he tripped over him. He was laying on the ground, eyes closed, glasses resting nearby, and Allen could make out a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. He was dressed in a thin long-sleeved brown jacket over a red shirt and black jeans that was covered in tears and grime. The boy looked around Allen's age and didn't seem responsive and, while Allen really had no idea how he got there, he wasn't about to let him just remain there.

Kneeling down beside the boy, he shook his shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?" he called.

The boy stirred and bright green eyes fluttered open. He lifted his head and jerked back, looking around widely and Allen noticed that he was clutching a stick in his hand. "W...Who are you?" he demanded, pointing the stick at Allen.

Allen blinked but just held up his hands to show that he wasn't armed. While his Master may call him an idiot all the time, Allen wasn't that stupid and knew, just by the way that the boy was holding that stick, that he likely thought he could use it as a weapon. And considering he could stab someone's eye out with a stick, Allen thought it best to play on the safe side.

"Hey, it's okay. I don't mean you any harm. I just found you here and wanted to make sure you were okay. I'm Allen, by the way, Allen Walker," he said, holding out a hand.

The boy eyed him with distrust but lowered the stick and stuck out his other hand. "Harry Potter," he said as he took the white-haired boy's hand and shook it.

"Nice to meet you. Are you hurt anywhere?" Allen asked, releasing the boy's hand and standing up, briefly noticing the surprised look on Harry's face but deciding against asking about it. Instead, he just held out a hand to Harry who hesitated for a moment before taking it and, after picking up his glasses and putting them on, pulling himself to his feet.

"I don't think so," he said after he flexed his arms to see if they were hurt.

"That's good," Allen said relieved.

The sound of a cane tapping on the cobblestone road echoed behind them and Allen turned with a frown as an elderly woman came to a stop at the mouth of the alley, illuminated by a shaft of sunlight. He stiffened, the scar on his left eye glowing as his left eye went black with two concentric rings of red rotating around its center. He lifted his head, narrowing his eyes as he gazed at the soul of a long-haired woman that was hovering above the old woman, tears of agony in her eyes.

"Little boys like you shouldn't be out this late," the elderly woman said. "Best be getting home."

"Harry, stay here," Allen said and moved forward before a confused Harry could protest. He came to a stop in front of the elderly woman and gave her a soft, sad smile. "You poor akuma."

"An akuma?" The old woman laughed. "You sure have a wild imagination. I am no demon or nothing like that." The soul above her head cried out incoherent pleas for freedom from her imprisonment.

Allen shook his head, removing his white glove and stuffing it into his pocket as he revealed the scaly red arm with the glowing green cross implanted on the back of the hand. "There is no use in lying to me because I can see you," he said.

The elderly woman took a step back, narrowing her eyes, the cane falling from her hands before she suddenly split in half, earning a cry of shock from Harry. A giant white balloon-like creature with gun barrels jutting out of its body and a white mask crying black tears emerged from the skin of the woman it had been hiding itself as.

"Innocence activate" Allen said. The green cross glowed before the green glow enveloped his entire arm, forming spikes of green energy around his shoulder as the red arm morphed into a long, wide silver arm with thick, sharp claws in place of fingers.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Harry shouted.

Just then, the akuma unleashed a torrent of bullets that shot like streaks of purple flares into the narrow alleyway. Allen darted back, tackling Harry to the ground and rolling both of them behind a dumpster. The bullets streaked overhead but, thankfully, none of them penetrated the dumpster that the two teenagers were hiding behind.

"Stay here and keep your head down. Those bullets contain akuma poison. If it so much as touches you, it'll infect you and kill you within seconds. Just stay out of sight. It'll focus on me so you should be fine," Allen said and lifted his head as the torrent of bullets stopped, noticing the akuma was rising high into the air, probably thinking to attack from above.

"W...What the hell is that? And what's up with your arm? Who are you?" Harry exclaimed, looking shocked.

"I promise I'll explain everything later," Allen reassured him, not taking his gaze off the akuma. He had to stop it before it got too high because the alleyway was too narrow for either of them to dodge the bullets and, while Allen knew that he was immune to akuma poison, Harry was just a regular human and would be killed.

"Stay here," Allen said again and, hoping that the other boy would listen to him, leaped onto the dumpster then across to grab the railing to the balcony across from the dumpster. He swung himself onto the railing and jumped again onto the roof of the building he and Harry had been hiding against. He then darted to the corner of the building as the akuma continued to rise.

"Over here," he called.

The akuma turned around, fixing that sad mask on him before it turned the barrels of its guns toward him. Allen jumped onto the ledge of the building. "May you soul be saved, you poor akuma," he murmured since he really did pity akumas. They were forced to become the way that they were, and forced to attack and kill, because of the Millennium Earl. As he jumped off the building, he slashed his silver clawed arm downward; the claws sliced through the balloon-like body of the akuma and Allen landed lightly on the ground as the akuma exploded overhead. The soul that had been attached to it fell in wisps of mist.

"Rest in peace," he said quietly to the soul.

A soft "_thank you_" from the soul sounded as it dissipated in front of him.

Releasing a short breath, Allen deactivated his Innocence as his eye deactivated before turning around and hurrying to rejoin the black-haired boy. "Are you okay?" he asked, kneeling by Harry and scanning his body, relieved to not see the pentacles that indicated akuma poisoning.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What was that?" Harry asked.

Allen looked up, frowning at the clouds that had rolled in during his fight with the akuma, thick storm clouds pregnant with rain. "Let's get back to the inn where my master and I are staying. It's going to rain soon and this is probably going to be a long conversation," he said. As if his words had called it up, a light rain began to fall from the overcast sky.

Harry brushed a few strands of black hair out of his face, studying Allen for a moment as if determining whether to trust him or not. Finally, he nodded. "Okay," he said. "But you will answer all of my questions, right?"

"As much as I can," Allen said.

"All right, deal."

**. . .**

Hermione Granger woke up cold. Lifting her head and shivering, she gazed around to find that she was lying in a snowdrift with a thick blanket of snow covering her sodden body. Her arms and face were numb from the cold and her normally bushy brown hair was flattened against her face and neck. Goosebumps littered her arms and she couldn't feel her fingers that well.

Shivering as she pushed herself to her knees, she gazed around while attempting to figure out how long she had been unconscious, where she was, and what happened to her wand. The last thing she remembered was being thrown into the misty blackness beyond the veil along with Ron, Sirius, and Harry.

_Wait, where are they?_ She thought, forcing herself to her feet and gazing around, grateful that she wasn't too frozen to move, and looking for anything to indicate just where her friends and Sirius were. She didn't see anything in the thick blanket of snow that covered the park that she'd ended up in and only saw a few people, wrapped up in thick coats with scarves around their necks and gloves on their hands, walking across the snowy landscape.

Trees devoid of leaves dotted the park, benches covered in snow rested at precise intervals, and a frozen pond dominated the heart of the park. There was a small island at the pond's center on top of which was a stone fountain sprouting a spray of water directly into the air, water that did not come back down but nor did it keep rising into the snow-white sky above.

"Are you okay?" A soft voice asked tentatively in English and Hermione turned to find a girl that looked a few years older than her with long blonde hair and concern in her leaf-green eyes. She was dressed in a thick light-gray jacket with her gloved hands stuffed deep into the jacket's pockets.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine," Hermione said and shivered as an icy breeze surged through the park, whipping a few strands of wet hair into her eyes.

"You're freezing! Come on. You can come to my place to warm up," the girl said and turned around, gesturing for her to follow with a gloved hand.

Hermione hesitated but, as another icy breeze slapped her cheeks, she decided that she really didn't have any choice if she didn't want to freeze. She wasn't dressed for winter weather, since it was spring when she and her friends had entered the Ministry of Magic, and knew that she was at risk for frostbite and hypothermia if she didn't get warmed up.

She nodded slowly and followed the girl as she jogged down the snow-covered street and past buildings topped with snow with icicles hanging from the buildings' awnings. Footprints showed that the road they were on had much traffic but there weren't any cars on the street or snow plows to drive away the snow. Hermione didn't even see any people shoveling snow out of the road to make it easier for traffic to get through but, then, there didn't seem to be any traffic period.

"You really shouldn't be out in this kind of weather in just that. Are you new here?" the girl asked, turning around to walk backwards along the snowy road.

"Um, yeah," Hermione said, deciding to just play that card. "I'm a tourist but I wasn't expecting the snow."

The girl hummed and turned around. "It's strange," she admitted as they continued walking down the road. "It's been like this for the past three months and no one knows why but we've just made the most of it. This is a little village that few people know about and we haven't had many tourists in the past."

"Oh, well, I just decided...to...you know...explore the lesser known places in the world," Hermione said quickly once she realized her blunder while looking around. She wasn't even sure where she was but she did see snow-capped mountains rising up around the village on almost all sides.

"Wow. I've always wanted to explore the world but never really had the chance 'cause it's so time-consuming and my family doesn't make nearly enough money to leave this village," the girl said with a bright smile. "I bet you've seen so many different places with your parents. Speaking of that, where are they?"

"They're back at the hotel. I can call them when we get to your place," Hermione lied, surprising herself with how easily the lie had escaped her lips; granted, she wasn't talking to an adult but it wasn't as if she could tell the girl the truth. That she had, quite literally, appeared out of nowhere in a snow-covered park with no idea how she got there.

"I can ask Mama but we only have one and it's normally used for work," the girl said. She paused then added, "Oh, I'm sorry. I haven't even introduced myself yet! How rude of me. I'm Ariadne Alanis. And you are?"

_Ariadne. That sounds Greek to me,_ Hermione thought and, realizing exactly what she had just thought, mused that Harry and Ron would probably get a kick out of the irony of that statement. "I'm Hermione Granger," she said.

"I like that name," Ariadne said with a smile. "It's pretty. Named after Helen of Troy's daughter, huh?"

"Um, maybe. I'm not sure really," Hermione admitted. She knew that she did share her name with the daughter of Helen of Troy but didn't know if that was her parents' intention or not.

"Oh. I know I'm named after the mythical Ariadne from our mythology," Ariadne admitted.

_Our. So she's Greek. If that's true then does that mean I, somehow, ended up in Greece? Or did I just happen to run into someone who was Greek?_ Hermione thought and quickly thought about how to find out for sure just where she was. She couldn't ask Ariadne directly where she was because she'd already made it seem as if she was in that village on purpose.

"Is there any other places near here that would be interesting to visit?" Hermione asked.

Ariadne hummed as she came to a stop in front of a door leading into a shop with several pairs of shoes on display in the windows. "Well, there's Trikala and Athens but the trains haven't been running here since three months ago when this weird weather hit so I dunno how you'd get there. Maybe by carriage. Come on inside."

She led the way into the shoe shop and Hermione, having confirmed that she was in Greece, followed her, her thoughts mostly on what Ariadne had said. The use of trains wasn't that big of a surprise, since trains were used in England all the time, but the mention of carriages was what threw Hermione off. As far as she knew, carriages were no longer used in the world; she supposed that some towns and villages could use them but to use them for a journey to places like Athens?

_I suppose it's possible if it's the only way to get there since they don't seem to have cars but that just brings up another question. Why don't they have cars?_ She thought, her brain attempting to figure out the puzzle that she'd stumbled upon.

"Mama! I'm home," Ariadne called and said something in Greek that Hermione couldn't understand.

A tall woman who looked like an older version of Ariadne made her way into the front of the shop, wiping her hands on a rag. "Oh, hello," she greeted Hermione in English. Hermione only just now noticed that their English was actually really good; she only detected small traces of an accent. "I'm Agatha, Ariadne's mother. Please, come in, dear. You look frozen."

"Thank you, ma'am," Hermione said politely and followed Agatha to the back room. Agatha told her to sit down on a worn-looking couch near the fireplace. Hermione frowned because the fireplace looked rather old-fashioned compared to the one's she had in her own house. She looked around, scrutinizing the entire place but it seemed so out of place and old-fashioned, like the buildings outside now that she thought about it.

Agatha walked over to her and gently draped a thick blanket over her shoulders. "I'll go make you some hot tea to help warm you up," she said with a kind smile.

"Oh thank you," Hermione said and the woman walked out of the room.

Ariadne removed her thick jacket and sat down across from her. Hermione studied her; she was dressed in an ankle-length pleated skirt and sailor blouse, which was odd since it was also old-fashioned like something out of the 1800s or something. At least, according to the pictures in the books she's read. "So where do you come from, Hermione?" she asked.

"London," Hermione replied.

"You're from England? You're a long way away from home," Ariadne commented, leaning back. "And you dress funny."

"I do?" Hermione looked down at her striped sweater and black jeans.

"Uh huh. Never seen clothes like that before, not even from other tourists," Ariadne said.

Hermione chewed on her lower lip but didn't know what to say in response to that. Ariadne's words suggested that what Hermione was wearing wasn't as common or else she wouldn't think it was funny. _Just where am I?_ She thought. She knew that she was in Greece but the little things that she had noticed were starting to suggest that there was more to her location than just somewhere in Greece.

"Ariadne?" she asked.

"Hmm?" Ariadne glanced at her.

"Do you have a calendar? I'm just curious to see how many more days my parents and I are going to stay here," Hermione said, the lie sliding out of her lips without much effort, just as it had before.

"Sure thing. Let me go get you it," Ariadne said and got to her feet. She left the room and then came back in a few moments later with a calendar in her hands. She handed it to Hermione who took it before staring at the date that was on the calendar.

_March 189__6__._

_ 189__6__? What the…? I'm in the past,_ Hermione thought in shock. She hadn't thought that she would travel through time when she fell through the Veil. Even though she knew that time travel was possible, her third year was proof of that, she didn't think that it was possible to travel a century into the past.

_But what am I supposed to do now? And did Harry, Ron, and Sirius end up here? If so, where are they? I should look for them. They might've ended up in another area of the city, _she thought as she, thanking Ariadne, handed her the calendar back.

She decided that she would warm herself up and, maybe, she could get a coat or something and start looking around for her friends and Sirius.

**. . .**

Ron Weasley hesitated as he gazed at the chess board in front of him, pressing his lips tightly together as he wondered just what move to make next. He scanned the board, looking for the moves that his opponent could make. Playing muggle chess was the same as playing Wizard's Chess, just without the pieces talking and moving on their own and destroying the other pieces, and Ron was just as good at the muggle version as he was the wizarding version.

The only reason why he was playing chess was because he was trying to get out of the jam he'd unintentionally gotten himself into. When he'd woken up, after falling into the Veil in the Department of Mysteries, he'd been surrounded by darkness with only a few pockets of light in the area. As he was trying to find out where he was, and attempt to navigate his way around the darkness, he hadn't been paying attention and ran into a chess match, knocking the entire expensive-looking board down. The participants had been furious since the board had cracked but one of the players said he'd forgive Ron if they played a match and Ron won; if he lost then he would have to pay the player a large sum of money that he just didn't have in order to make amends.

Finally spotting the move that he could make that would help him win, he picked up the knight and moved it to take his opponent's bishop. "Check," he said.

His opponent frowned and moved the king to the right one spot.

Ron grinned. _Thought you'd do that,_ he thought as he moved his bishop to a space that would completely prevent the king from moving in anyway. "Checkmate," he declared.

His opponent groaned. "Well, damn," he muttered, tipping his white king over. "Fine. I'll let what happened go. Just get outta here, kid."

"Uh, right," Ron said, standing up and heading away from the table, using the pockets of light to attempt to navigate the darkness.

He didn't understand the town he'd ended up in. He'd been there for a few hours already and there didn't seem to be any change in terms of the darkness; there was no sun, no moon, and no stars. And, in the last few hours, that hadn't changed at all; it was as if someone had thrown some...what did Hermione call it? Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder?…over the entire town.

It was really weird.

Ron sighed and looked around. He didn't know what time it was; the only thing he knew was that there weren't very many people outside, other than the people he'd played chess with. He supposed he should find some place to stay the night; contrary to common, i.e. Slytherin, belief, he wasn't stupid and knew that being outside in the dark wasn't a good idea.

Unfortunately, he also knew that inns cost money and he didn't have any muggle money on him nor did he have much wizarding money on him.

"Hey, Mr.," a voice called out and Ron jumped before turning to find two people, one of which was holding a lantern in his hands while the other was holding a bag of groceries, walking toward him.

"It's not safe to be outside," the taller of the two said.

"Um, who are you?" Ron asked.

"My name's Alvin and this is my son Quinton," the tall man said. "You're new here, aren't you? We don't get any tourists since the darkness descended three months ago and you're the second one we've come across but maybe you know the first. He said that he was looking for some people."

"Um, maybe? Who is this guy?" Ron asked suspiciously. His mother had raised him to never trust strangers but that didn't mean that he wouldn't ask some questions himself.

"His name's Sirius."

"Sirius? Sirius Black?" Ron asked hopefully.

"Yeah, that's his last name. He's staying with us for the time being. You know him?"

Even if Sirius was, technically speaking, still a fugitive, it didn't seem as if Alvin knew that. Ron decided that if Sirius agreed to stay with these people then he might as well too. "Yeah, I do. He's my best friend's godfather," Ron said. "So where is he?"

"We were just heading home after getting food at the market when we ran into you so you can just come with us," Alvin said, walking past Ron and toward the door to a house nearby. He unlocked it and pushed it open. "Sirius, we found one of your companions."

"Really? Which one?" Ron relaxed when he heard Sirius's familiar voice and, a moment later, the haggard-looking black-haired form of Sirius Black appeared in the doorway.

"Hey Sirius," Ron said.

"Ron, glad you're all right. Have you seen Harry and Hermione?" Sirius asked.

"I can't see a bloody thing in this darkness," Ron grumbled.

"Tell me about it," Sirius muttered and Ron could see worry in his eyes but it cleared as he turned to Alvin and Quinton, the latter of whom slipped into the house with the groceries. "Thanks for looking for 'em, Alvin."

"No problem. I like to help," Alvin said as Ron made his way into the house.

"Ron, can I talk to ya?" Sirius asked.

"Okay?" Ron followed Sirius as he led the way toward the other end of the living room that they were in. Alvin and Quinton seemed to realize that they wanted some privacy because they didn't say anything and both of them disappeared into the kitchen.

"What's up?" Ron asked.

"We're in big trouble," Sirius murmured. "I cast a spell to see just how long I'd been out and to find out where I am and, well, we're in France but that's not the bad news. _Accio calendar!_" A moment later, a calendar that was resting on the coffee table flew into his hand and he held it out to Ron. Ron took it and, while he couldn't read French, he was easily able to read the year.

"We're in 1896? How?" he said stunned. Hermione had time traveled in their third year but Ron vaguely remembered Hermione telling him that one couldn't travel more than a few hours into the past without risking the present or the future.

"I don't know. Must've had something to do with what happened when we all fell through the Veil and I dunno how to get back to our own time. Messing with time magic ain't something that's advised to do," Sirius said grimly. "So, yeah, I think we're stuck in this time for the time being."

"That's not good." Ron pressed his lips together in worry. "Do you think 'Mione and Harry ended up in this time too?"

"I think it's likely." There was no hiding the worry in Sirius's eyes. "I hope Remus and everyone in the Department of Mysteries is all right too."

"Yeah."

"Dinner's ready. Sirius! You and your young friend are welcomed to join us," Alvin called from the kitchen.

Ron's eyes lit up at the mention of food.

"Thank you, Alvin," Sirius called and the two of them headed into the kitchen.

**. . .**

Harry Potter trailed after the white-haired boy as he led the way down the street, the silver-clawed arm that he'd used earlier was gone but he'd replaced the glove he'd been wearing before Harry could get a good look at his arm. It made him wonder why the boy Allen was hiding it but he decided against asking, at least right now. He had far too many questions as it was; where was he? What was that balloon-like creature? Those two were on the forefront of his mind.

"Hopefully my master won't be home yet. I don't think he'd react too well to finding you here," Allen admitted as they neared an inn that looked a little similar to the _Leaky Cauldron. _He walked inside, giving the innkeeper a polite greeting and leading the way down the hallway.

"Master?" Harry echoed, frowning as he followed after Allen. As far as he knew, only servants, like house elves, called who they serve master. Was Allen a servant then? But Harry was pretty sure servants only worked for the rich, or were house elves, and he was also pretty sure that their masters wouldn't be staying at an inn quite like the one they were walking in.

They reached a room and Allen unlocked it and led the way into a musty room in which there were two cots, discarded empty bottles of alcohol littering the floor, and papers scattered on a desk by the window.

Allen navigated his way around the bottles and walked over to the window. He opened it and a golden thing that looked like a Snitch, but was slightly larger, flew into the room.

"Thanks for staying outside, Tim. I probably wouldn't have been able to find my way back had it not been for you," Allen said.

The golden thing, Tim apparently, replied by nuzzling Allen's snow-white hair before it settled down on Allen's head, its tail curling around Allen's ear. Allen chuckled before turning to face Harry. "All right, I'll answer what questions you have. Please, take a seat," he said, gesturing to the bed as he pulled out the chair by the desk and sat down.

Harry sat down on the bed. "Where am I?" he asked.

"Somewhere in Africa. I'm not entirely sure where. We came into this town in the dead of night and I haven't had the chance to find someone to tell me the name of it yet," Allen replied.

_Africa? That's a long way from home, _Harry thought but went on to his next question since he doubted that the white-haired boy knew of how Harry had gotten to Africa. He, himself, was still trying to wrap his mind around that; the last thing he remembered was falling through the Veil while trying to save his godfather. On that note, he also didn't even know where his godfather and his two friends, Hermione and Ron, had ended up since they'd fallen through the Veil with him. "What was that balloon-like creature thing that attacked us?" he asked.

"An akuma," Allen said grimly. "They are machines created by the Millennium Earl through use of the souls of the departed."

Harry shivered because he didn't like the sound of that. He was pretty sure messing around with someone's soul was considered dark magic. But another question arose in his mind at the mention of the person who created these creatures. He'd never heard of that person before. "Who's the Millennium Earl?"

"Well, that's gonna take a bit more explaining," Allen said with a faint smile. "I'll explain what I do know but there are some things that I don't know and, unfortunately, I only know so much about the Millennium Earl. He's the creator of akumas and the one that controls them. He appears when someone has just lost someone they loved and offers them the chance to bring their loved one back to life. However, when their soul is brought back, it is bound to a metal frame and becomes bound to the Millennium Earl, forced to serve him for eternity, or until it is destroyed."

Harry shivered at that. That wasn't something he would wish on anyone. When someone died, he personally thought that they deserved the right to rest in peace. His thoughts drifted to Cedric and he wondered if Cedric's father would have brought him back had he been given the chance. Thinking about Cedric brought with it the memory of when he last saw him, the flash of sickly green light, the lifeless eyes staring up at the sky…

He viciously shoved the thought out of his mind. "You seem to know a lot about akuma," he commented, forcing himself to think about something else.

A small sad smile crossed Allen's face. "Yeah," he said but said nothing more.

Harry decided not to push it since he could hear the pain in the white-haired boy's voice. "What was that silver arm of yours?" he said, deciding to go to that question to get his mind off akumas, souls, and the memory of the kind seventh year Hufflepuff he'd tried, and failed, to save. Even after almost a year since the death had occurred, it still haunted Harry. Granted, not as much as it had in the initial first few weeks afterward but the grief and the guilt was still there.

"This?" Allen held up his left arm. "It's my Innocence. Innocence is the only substance in the world that can fight against and destroy akuma and it takes on several different forms. I was born with mine. It's my entire left arm."

"Innocence?"

"I don't know the whole story unfortunately," Allen admitted apologetically. "Master never got around to actually telling me the whole story." His voice held a mixture of frustration and resignation as if he wasn't surprised by that.

"So who is your Master anyway? And I thought only servants had masters," Harry said puzzled.

"Oh, it's not that kind of master," Allen said, leaning back against his seat. "Like I already told you, Innocence is the only thing that can destroy an akuma so those who can use Innocence are trained to become Exorcists within an organization called the Black Order and fight akumas. Sometimes, generals of the Order take on apprentices and train them to be Exorcists. My master is one of those Generals."

"Oh. So you're an apprentice," Harry said and found himself wondering why he hadn't thought of that earlier. Hermione had told him, while they were discussing possible career choices at the end of their second year, that some masters in specific fields took on apprentices after they graduated. Thinking about Hermione reminded him that he still didn't know where she, or Ron and Sirius, were.

"Yeah," Allen said sullenly.

The door suddenly slammed open and a tall man with long red hair, a goatee, and a white mask covering half his face strode into the room, taking a long drink out of a long wine bottle in one hand and with a glowing green cube-like item in his other hand. He was dressed in a gold accented black clothing with a large hat on top of his head.

"Yo, Idiot Apprentice," he greeted Allen.

"Master," Allen replied politely, standing up and inclining his head in greeting.

The man snorted and then spotted Harry and narrowed his visible red eye. "Why's there another brat here, Idiot Apprentice?" he said.

Harry bristled a little at being called a brat but held his tongue.

"There was an akuma attack and he saw me use my Innocence so I told him that I'd explain everything to him, Master," Allen replied.

"Everything? You really are an idiot, brat. Why the hell would you think explaining everything to him would be a good idea? And why the hell is this thing pulsating?" the general said, glaring at the glowing green cube that was pulsating in his hand.

"He deserved some answers," Allen said hotly in defense.

"Tch. Whatever. That still don't explain why he's _here_. Hn. Whatever. I really don't care," the man said, tossing the cube up and down in his hands.

"Is that Innocence?" Allen said in surprise.

"What? Of course it is, Idiot Apprentice, or did you suddenly become blind? It was what we came here for," the man said.

Allen blinked "But that means...you actually did your job?" he said in bewilderment as if he couldn't fathom that his master had actually done something he was supposed to do. Based on Allen's words, it was almost as if his master doing his job wasn't a common occurrence.

"Tch. You, brat, are you gonna stay sitting there gaping like a stupid fish or are ya gonna leave? 'Cause I already have one brat to deal with. I'm not gonna deal with another," the man said bluntly, glaring at Harry.

"Who the bloody hell are you anyway? And I still have questions," Harry retorted hotly.

"He has more fire than you do, Idiot Apprentice," the man said. "The name's Cross, this idiot's master, and you, brat, are better off not knowing anything more than what the idiot's already told you."

Allen glared at his master who smirked back at him and then turned to glare at the pulsating cube of Innocence in his hand. "Oh just go then," he grumbled and to, Harry's surprise, the Innocence flew on its own out of Cross's hand and shot toward him.

His wand was in his hand in an instant but, before he could utter a shield charm, the green cube made contact with his wand. A bright flash of green light enveloped it and Harry, shielding his eyes with one hand, blinked a little as his eyes adjusted and the light faded. He looked down and was surprised to see that, on the handle of the wand, was a glowing green cross embedded directly into the wood.

"What?" he said in puzzlement.

"It looks like you're an Accomodator, Harry," Allen said.

"It chose a stick as your weapon? Ha," Cross snorted and flopped into the chair that Allen had been sitting in moments before.

"It's a wand," Harry said flatly.

That just caused Cross to start laughing. "What are you? A Merlin wannabee or something?" he said.

Harry frowned. He detected the undercurrent of amusement in the General's voice and realized that he was being mocked. Muggles did know about Merlin, due to the stories that were written about the Arthurian legends, but no one knew that Merlin actually existed. This guy clearly didn't but nor did this guy, or Allen, know about witches or wizards. It made him wonder if he'd done the right thing of actually saying that he had a wand out loud. Then again it was clear that they, or at least Cross, didn't believe him so he figured there was no harm done.

But that left another question. "Wait, what do you mean I'm an Accomodator?" he said.

"You remember how I told you that Innocence is the only thing that can destroy akuma?" Allen asked and, when Harry nodded, he added, "And how I told you that my left arm was Innocence?"

Harry nodded again.

"Innocence chooses who it wants to wield it. These people are called Accomodators and are trained to use their Innocence and become Exorcists," Allen explained.

Harry frowned because, based on Allen's words, it didn't seem as if these _Accomodators_ had a choice. "Don't they get a choice?" he said.

Allen shook his head, giving him an apologetic smile.

"But I don't want to fight those akuma things. I just want to find my friends and my godfather and go home," Harry objected.

"Your friends and godfather?" Allen repeated.

Harry looked away. He hadn't meant to say that out loud, since he didn't exactly trust these people and he was still trying to wrap his mind around everything that he'd learned, but he couldn't exactly take it back now. They didn't need to know the truth so he just told them the bare minimum of what happened.

"My friends, my godfather, and I got into a bit of a fight and we got separated and I have no idea where they are," he admitted and decided against saying that he had no idea how he got to Africa to begin with.

"That's not my problem," Cross said dismissively. "Whether you like it or not, you're an Accomodator for Innocence and akuma are gonna be naturally attracted to you because of that. They're gonna attack you and will try and kill ya. So either you get training or you get killed."

Just then a scream sounded outside and Allen turned toward the window but not before Harry saw his eye glow and turn black with two concentric red rings rotating around the pupil. "Master, there are at least ten akuma outside," he said.

"Levels?" Cross asked nonchalantly, standing up.

Allen studied the window. "All level ones," he said.

"Well, then, deal with 'em."

"Master..."

Cross pulled out a mallet out of nowhere with his free hand and Allen yet out a yelp. "I'm on it, Master," he cried and bolted out of the room.

Cross dropped back into his chair, putting the mallet back wherever he'd found it and taking another swig of his wine bottle.

"Aren't you gonna help him?" Harry asked warily, wincing when he heard a crash followed by another scream outside. His natural curiosity was staring to overwhelm him and he found himself moving toward the window, barely paying attention to Cross's response to his question.

He jumped back when the window, and the entire wall around it, exploded and the familiar white-haired form of Allen was sent tumbling into the wall. Harry, having hastily called up a shield charm to block the debris—not even recalling that he wasn't, technically speaking, supposed to be using magic outside of Hogwarts—was surprised to find that the shield charm was a brilliant emerald green color.

A balloon-like creature, an akuma Harry reminded himself, flew toward toward them and Cross, who'd relocated to the other side of the room still drinking from the wine bottle, snorted. "A measly level 1 got the best of you, Idiot Apprentice?" he said, raising his lone visible eyebrow.

Allen coughed, brushing snowy white locks out of his face as he sat up, his silver-clawed arm curled almost protectively around something. Harry gazed through the green shield and found that the white-haired boy's left arm was curled around a tiny girl that couldn't be older than five.

The akuma raised its barrel to fire on Allen and the little girl again and Harry, releasing the shield charm now that there was no more debris flying at him, reacted quickly. He didn't want Allen, who'd been nice enough to answer his questions, and an innocent little girl to get hurt or killed.

"_Reducto!_" he shouted and a burst of emerald green light shot out of his wand and crashed into the akuma causing it to explode in a burst of dark energy that evaporated quickly.

"There's still three more," Allen said, darting toward the gaping hole in the wall and leaping out of it. Harry moved to the hole, watching as Allen leapt into the air and crashed his silver-clawed hand into one akuma before, using that akuma as a springboard, leapt to the next one.

Screams of terror sounded and Harry whipped his head around, eyes widening when he saw a clump of people running away from the third akuma that was firing at them. To his horror, whenever one of those beams of purple light hit someone, pentacles covered their skin and they exploded into dust. He swallowed back the nausea and pointed his wand shakily at the third akuma.

_I destroyed the last one somehow. I can with this one too,_ he thought. "_Reducto!_" he shouted and a blast of emerald green light shot forward and crashed into the third akuma, causing it to explode into tiny bits of dark energy that faded away as quickly as it'd appeared.

Allen, jumping down from the roof he'd landed on when he'd destroyed the second to last akuma, ran his right hand through his disheveled white hair as his other arm shrank back into a scaly red arm with a glowing green cross embedded on the back of its hand. "Thanks," he said with a smile at Harry.

"Oh, you're welcome. Why did they attack those people though?" Harry said in confusion.

"They have to do what the Millennium Earl tells them to do. Akuma are such pitiful creatures," Allen said, looking sad and lost in thought.

"Akuma carry out the will of that fatso Millennium Earl," Cross said, striding over to join them, throwing the bottle of wine over his shoulder. It landed on the bed Harry had been sitting on earlier and bounced to the ground, though it didn't break. "And the Millennium Earl basically wants to destroy all of humanity so those akuma help him do that. That's why us Exorcists have to fight against 'em 'cause it'd be really bad if the Millennium Earl won obviously."

Harry shivered. _The Millennium Earl sounds worse than Voldemort and I didn't even think that was possible, _he thought since he knew that Voldemort just wanted to take over the Wizarding World. Even if Voldemort was insane and did want to kill off the majority of the world's population, according to what he knew—i.e. what he learned from Hermione and the Order—he really did just want to rule the Wizarding World.

"Brat, I'm out of alcohol," Cross said with a one-eyed glare at Allen.

Allen bolted down the sidewalk and Harry noticed that he was heading toward the nearest liquor store. He had to wonder just how Allen would be able to get the alcohol when he, clearly, wasn't old enough to buy alcohol.

"And you,"—Cross turned to look at Harry—"you're an Accomodator, whether you like it or not, so you're just gonna have to deal with it. Akuma are going to be attracted to you, no matter where you go, and they will try to kill you. So it's either learn to fight or die. Your choice, brat."

Harry felt a bit angry with Cross's blunt, harsh tone but, at the same time, he found it somewhat refreshing. Instead of just telling him that he was too young to handle such matters, that it was none of his concern, that he didn't have to fight, he was telling him how it was. Instead of treating Harry like a child to be coddled, Cross was telling him the harsh reality that he was faced with now that he was the Accomodator to Innocence, to the very substance that akuma were drawn to and the only thing that could destroy them.

And not only that but Harry remembered hearing the screams of terror and see the terror etched onto the faces of those innocent people who were running from the akuma. They hadn't done anything wrong and yet they were being killed by the akuma just because some guy called the Millennium Earl hated humanity. And their eyes, their terror-filled faces would remain ingrained on his mind.

Harry had been told, multiple times by his friends, that he had a bit of a hero complex. He had, after all, faced off against a basilisk to save Ginny's life in his second year, risked getting his soul sucked out to try and save Sirius from the Dementors in his second year, nearly got expelled from Hogwarts for saving his cousin Dudley from a Dementor before his fifth year, and willingly went into the Department of Mysteries to save Sirius, despite knowing, deep down, that it was a trap.

He knew that he couldn't just do nothing when innocents were being killed for no reason other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time, especially not when he'd actually gained the power to do something about it.

And, besides, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the Millennium Earl was worse than Voldemort and that the war against Voldemort seemed insignificant compared to the Exorcists' fight against the Millennium Earl. And, after seeing those akuma in action, Harry could readily believe that it was worse.

He still wanted to find his friends and his godfather, and he also did want to know just how the bloody hell he'd gotten to Africa to begin with, though. _Could it be possible to do both?_ He didn't know.

Allen came back and held out a bottle of wine to his Master. Cross took it, removed the cork with his teeth, and took a long drink as Allen panted, stuffing some gold coins into his pocket. Harry blinked because these people didn't seem to believe in witches or wizards so why did they have gold coins—_what are those things actually called? Hermione would know—_instead of pounds?

"Hmm, you remembered the good stuff this time, Idiot Apprentice," Cross mused.

"How?" Harry said. "It's illegal to sell alcohol to a minor."

Cross and Allen looked at him and Cross snorted. "Funny, brat," he said.

"I'm serious."

"Harry, there really isn't a law against selling alcohol to a minor," Allen said. "I've been buying Master alcohol since I've been his apprentice and I haven't had any trouble, no matter where I went."

Harry stared. "Really? But it's illegal where I come from," he said in confusion.

"Where do you come from?"

"England."

Cross snorted. "There's no law there either," he said.

Harry shook his head. "But there is," he said. He was positive of that. He remembered when he was nine and his aunt and uncle had been forced to drag him with them and Dudley to go shopping. He'd seen this sixteen year old get turned away from buying alcohol because, the store clerk had told him, it was against the law and she could get fired for doing that, if not worse.

Cross snorted and took a long drink of his wine bottle. "No there ain't, brat," he said. "Why am I even arguing with you about this? Tch."

Harry was still very confused but, as he wracked his brain—he really wished Hermione was there—he couldn't figure out why that law wouldn't exist.

Unless...pieces started to fall into place. Harry may not have the greatest grades in school but he was far from stupid; he was actually rather intelligent but, after years of getting hit and locked in the cupboard for getting higher grades than Dudley who couldn't get good grades to save his life, he hide his intelligence. He may not be on Hermione's level of intelligence but he did know that thing weren't just adding up.

If the law didn't exist then that meant…

"What year is it?" Harry asked finally.

Cross and Allen looked at him like he'd grown a second head. He knew he sounded crazy but he was starting to feel suspicious about everything and knew that this might be his best way of putting the pieces together in his head.

"It's 1896," Allen said finally.

And everything firmly clicked into place.

Harry fell to his knees, eyes wide with shock as the full implication of Allen's words weighed down on him. After learning about akuma and the Millennium Earl and finding out that he was an Accomodator for Innocence, this was the biggest shock that he'd received all day.

_189__6__._

"Harry, are you okay?" Allen asked worriedly.

Harry couldn't think straight. He didn't know how it happened but it must have had something to do with the Veil. He didn't know how the Veil had transported him a hundred years into the past but that must have been the cause. Third years was proof that time travel was possible but never did Harry think that it was possible to go this far back in time.

And yet…

"Harry?" Allen said.

Harry ran a hand through his messy black hair. "Sorry. I just...give me a moment," he said as his mind continued to attempt to wrap around the revelation. He didn't know how to react; shock was the first emotion that he could honestly say he felt and despair since he had no idea if he could get home, when home was a century in the future and fear because Hermione had warned him that meddling with time could have disastrous effects.

And yet...it seemed that he was already getting involved in this time period. He realized that as he looked at the wand he was still holding in his hand and, more importantly, at the green glow of the Innocence that was embedded into the wood. The Innocence had chosen him as his Accomodator and that meant that he was part of the war between the Exorcists and the Earl whether he liked it or not, just as Cross said. Akuma would be drawn to him because of it, according to Cross and Harry doubted that Cross was the type of person to lie about something like that; at least, based on his first impression of the man, he wasn't.

That meant that he was going to be unintentionally meddling with the past whether he liked it or not because he wasn't supposed to be there.

And yet he realized that there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't know how he'd traveled a hundred years into the past and that meant that he didn't know how to get back. Hermione might know but even Harry doubted that.

He didn't even know if Hermione, Ron, and Sirius had ended up in the same time as him.

It was both a sobering and somber thought.

"Are you gonna keep moping around or what?" Cross said impatiently.

Harry bit his lip to keep from snapping back with a _well, sorry that I'm having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that I'm a hundred years in the past with no idea how the hell I got here_ and pushed himself to his feet. He couldn't tell them; they wouldn't believe him. So he decided to keep it close to himself for now.

"Well, brat, at least you got back to your feet," Cross said. "Okay, here's the deal. I don't give a damn why you're so shocked by the year. The fact remains that you're an Accomodator for Innocence and akuma are gonna be gunning for you left and right. While I absolutely loathe the idea of taking on another apprentice, we're short on Exorcists as it is and I ain't gonna let another Exorcist get killed 'cause you did something stupid because you lacked guidance. The Vatican would be even less happy with me than they already are if I let that happen and I really don't wanna deal with their shit. So you're either gonna join Allen and be my apprentice too or you're gonna go ahead and get killed. Your choice, brat."

"Not much of a choice, is there?" Harry said dryly since he really couldn't see a choice. Besides, before the revelation of just _when_ he was came out, he had been leaning towards becoming an Exorcist anyway, simply because the Millennium Earl seemed to be worse than Voldemort.

His friends would likely say that it was just his hero complex speaking but if Harry could save people from getting hurt or killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time—memories of Cedric's final moments came into his mind—then he would. He didn't think he could walk away from this kind of fight if he wanted to; he just wasn't that kind of person.

"All right," Harry added and glanced at his wand. "Though I don't know how you can actually train me. I already know how to use a wand."

"But you don't know how to use Innocence nor do you know how to fight against akuma. You just got lucky here today, brat," Cross said.

Harry bit his lip as he bristled because he knew that Cross was right. He knew how to use a wand but he did not know how to fight akuma; he'd just thrown the first curse he could think of and hoped for the best. Even if it had worked, that didn't really mean that Harry knew what he was doing.

"All right, you've made your point," he said.

"Whatever," Cross said and glanced at the ruined inn as he took another drink of his wine. "Let's go." He walked off without another word and Allen trailed after him, giving Harry a faint smile as he did so.

Harry walked after them. "Um, where are we going?" he asked since, while he may have agreed to be trained on how to use his Innocence by Cross, he did still want to find his friends and godfather.

"Who knows when it comes to Master," Allen said.

Harry hesitated, then asked, "Do you think it'll be possible to look for my friends and godfather?"

Allen cast a sidelong glance at him. "Do you know where they could be?" he asked.

"Um..." Harry mutely shook his head. "They might still be in the area."

Allen hummed and turned to Cross. "Master, may Harry look around for his friends and godfather before we leave?" he asked politely.

Cross snorted. "We're not leaving until the morning so go ahead and do what you want, brats," he said and strode off, finishing off the wine and then disappearing into a building.

Allen grimaced and turned to Harry, giving him a kind smile. "Would you like some help?" he offered.

"Sure, thanks," Harry said.

He supposed he was taking the revelation a bit better than one would think but, given all that he'd been through over the course of the past five years, he really had come to just accept the strange and drastic things that have happened in his life. Perhaps the truth of the situation just hadn't set in yet but, for now, lashing out wouldn't be the wisest thing to do.

Harry was stuck a hundred years in the past and he supposed he would have to just make the most of it until he could find his friends, his godfather and, if possible, a way back home.

**. . .**

_Next Time: In the Deserts of Egypt_

**. . .**


End file.
